measured out in coffee spoons
by ToastWeaselofDOOM
Summary: AU. There's a chess board in the breakroom for unknown reasons. Wood, medium sized, one where the board itself is actually the box for the pieces. It's always set up but never once has anybody sat down to play. It intrigues him.


**Fandom:** Doctor Who  
><strong>Title:<strong> measured out in coffee spoons  
><strong>Author:<strong> toastweaselofdoom  
><strong>CharactersPairing:** The Eleventh Doctor, River Song/ RiverxDoctor  
><strong>Setting:<strong> AU  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+  
><strong>Summary:<strong> There's a chess board in the breakroom for unknown reasons. Wood, medium sized, one where the board itself is actually the box for the pieces. It's apparently sat there since before his time here, always set up but never once has anybody sat down to play. It intrigues him.  
><strong>AN:** Wrote this all in one sitting. Considering I've had writers block for the past forever, I'm extremely proud of this. (Not beta'd I'm afraid. D:) Title is based off of _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_.

* * *

><p>There's a chess board in the breakroom for unknown reasons. Wood, medium sized, one where the board itself is actually the box for the pieces. It's apparently sat there since before his time here, always set up but never once has anybody sat down to play. It's the mystery of the school. Doctor Smith (known as 'The Doctor' to any and all of his students and fellow faculty members) observes it over his coffee cup every morning before class, and over his slapdash sandwiches during his lunch. It intrigues him.<p>

One day, he goes over and picks up a pawn, just to see if the pieces are not, in fact, glued down, and that the board is for aesthetic purposes only. It's not; the pawn smoothly lifts away from the board. He rolls the small hunk of pale wood through his fingers, wondering over it. The automated two-minute bell buzzes through the speaker behind him. The Doctor sets the pawn down, collects his lunch things, and returns to his classroom.

The next day, Doctor Smith walks into the breakroom and immediately he notices the change. A second pawn has been called into play. Two little black and white soldiers, squaring off in the middle of the board. He cannot help himself-he reaches down, picks up the King side bishop, and plants it firmly four squares to the left. Then he pours a cup of coffee and heads off to his classroom. When he returns for lunch, the black Queen is moved up to protect the pawn. The Doctor grins-someone wants to play. It's been forever since he's played a game. He moves the Queen's pawn up one, then eats his sandwich, all the while staring at the board.

The game is played out over several days. Blows are traded, men are lost, and strategies defeated. Whenever the Doctor thinks he has the perfect plan, his mystery opponent makes a move he could not have foreseen and his plan shatters. Little white pieces pieces line up beside the board, taunting his own three black captives; two pawns and a knight. If anybody notices the silent war raging at the corner table of the breakroom, they say nothing.

The Doctor thinks about the game constantly. He gets distracted in the middle of lectures (moreso than usual), gets his chemical equations mixed up with his theories, and let's the grading go. The papers stack up, and parents start to complain, but he doesn't really care. All he can think about is that game.

And one day he walks in and there's a bright pink post-it note stuck to his king. '_Checkmate_' is penned across it in flowing, loopy strokes. He looks down and noticed for the first time the corner he's been back into. Trapped behind his own pawns by an ebony queen and her rook. The Doctor scowls and childishly knocks over the pieces. He leaves the room, determined to never look at the chess board again. But the next morning he's back again; the chess board has been set up again and the king's white pawn has advanced, just like before. There's another post-it note, this time stuck to the board itself.

_Play again? _it reads in the same wide, loopy scrawl.

He can't help himself. This time, his opening move is with a knight.

-/-/-

Two days, six moves, and a black pawn lost later finds The Doctor spending his planning wonder who exactly is this mysterious chess partner is. He does not recognize the handwriting, so it's no one in the science department he heads. Nor is it any one of the administrators, or Amy or Rory. He inquires with them both; they shrug, not knowing, or not telling. When he's beaten again, his desire to know grows. He lingers in the breakroom every morning and during lunch, trying to catch site of his partner. But they are elusive, and many a time he is forced to jog to class as the late bell rings.

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and soon they have played countless games. He's lost more than he has won, but he comes to terms with it (eventually). His hunger to know the identity of his partner grows, and soon he leaves a blue post-it note of his own. _Who are you?_ There is no response from his partner, only the loss of his queen. That infuriates him. Two moves later, he looses the game.

As he leaves, strategies whizzing through his head, he catches sight of a woman near his car. He speeds up, but by the time he gets there, she's gone. A pink post-it note flutters on his windshield. he plucks it off and reads it's message. _'Good game, sweetie.' _It's punctuated by a lipstick kiss.  
><em><br>_He stares at it for a good minute, then slips it in his pocket. He looks up at the rev of an engine and is just in time to see a red convertible speed out of the parking lot, the same woman from earlier behind the wheel. He makes a mental note to be on the lookout for a teacher with curly blonde hair and red lipstick. A week later, at the monthly faculty meeting, he spots her.

Doctor River Song, head of the History department and a once-upon-a-time archeologist before she became a teacher. He knows more of her legend through the students than actually knowing her. She's fierce, a strict grader, with a low tolerance for hats in the classroom. She's also understanding, letting many students with familial problems turn work in late. She dresses to kill, and the boys often complain about her dastardly distracting good looks. He knows she's been the subject of many a wooing attempt by the school's resident flirt, Jack Harkness (all to no avail). She's good friends with _his _good friends, Rory and Amy. He wonders how he did not know sooner.

He admires her as she takes notes on what the principal is saying. The rumors are true; she is gorgeous. Her wild, curly golden hair halos her face, and he wonders if it's as soft as it looks. Her lips are painted red, and there is just enough eyeshadow on her lids to bring out her stellar blue-green eyes. Her body is all soft curves, which are accentuated by her fitted clothing. And as he watches, wide, loopy words flow from her pen. She looks up from her notepad, catches him staring, and winks.

The Doctor swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

When the meeting is over, he tries to confront her, but is waylaid by Amy. By the time he shakes her off with an excuse, River is gone. He grumpily trods to his classroom to collect his briefcase, and as an afterthought stops in the breakroom for one more glance at the chessboard before he goes home. To his surprise, River is waiting for him.

"Hello, sweetie," she all but purrs as he comes in and sets his briefcase down.

"Doctor River Song," he says, sitting down opposite to her at the chess board. He glances down. She's moved, a black knight moved into a position that just seems _wrong_ to him. It's not her usual game style. His mind calculates, and realizes her plan. "Trying to sacrifice your knight to get my queen out of the way so you can strike? I'm sorry, but that won't work with me." He picks up his rook and moves three squares to his left. "Check."

River's blue-green eyes glance down to observe the board. "Mate."

"What?" He glances down, and sure enough, he's got her cornered with his bishop and beloved rooks. "...Well, I guess it is." He grins. It's been ten games since he's beaten her.

"Good game." She resets the pieces, then stands, and reaches for her coat. The Doctor hastily stands as well. "Ahhhh, can I buy you a drink?"

A perfect eyebrow arches as she buttons her coat. "Is it not the looser who buys the winner a drink?"

"Uh... yeah." The Doctor deflates for a second. He wants to get to know her, he needs to find a way to spend time with her. Then he gets an idea. "But I've lost 94 games to you, so I suppose I owe you more than a drink, don't I? How about dinner?"

"Ninety-five," she corrects him, pulling her mesmerizing hair back into a ponytail. Then she smiles at him. "Dinner sounds lovely." She walks for the door and holds up a set of keys. "I'll drive."

It takes the Doctor a moment to realize those were his keys to beloved blue station wagon. "H-Hey! River, wait!" He grabs his briefcase and runs after her.

This will be much more interesting than any game of chess.


End file.
